Flesh and Bones
by Reader Addict
Summary: Dipper Pines wanted to study under the tutorage of his great-uncle Ford only to find that 12 doctorate degrees don't always mean a good teacher. In spending time with his great-uncle Stan Dipper discovers Bill Cipher is alive. The demonic triangle backs him into a corner and makes an offer he can't refuse. (Seven or so years after Weirdmageddon.)
1. Chapter 1

**Flesh and Bones**

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Summary:

It has been seven years since Weirdmageddon and Dipper Pines decided to pursue his passion by dropping out of college and returning to Gravity Falls. He wanted to study under the tutorage of his great-uncle Ford only to find that 12 doctorate degrees don't always mean a good teacher. In spending time with his great-uncle Stan Dipper discovers Bill Cipher is alive. The demonic triangle backs him into a corner and makes an offer he can't refuse.

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Note:

I know the beginning is kind of hard to get through. My friend who hasn't seen Gravity Falls before needed a little more background than a typical fan and I did the best I could for the moment. I may edit later.

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 **Chapter One**

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In the Pacific Northwest, nestled in the depths of an Oregon pine forest, there lay the town of Gravity Falls. It's not marked on any maps, and people don't really believe it exists save for those who have seen it. It is said that many odd occurrences tend to happen there as if it were a magnet for the strange and unusual. In fact just seven summers ago, the mystery of Gravity Falls almost brought about the end of the world as we know it.

A notorious villain by the name of Bill Cipher; a yellow two-dimensional triangle with a single eye and wearing nothing but a bowtie, top hat, and cane, had made it his mission to go from dimension to dimension, bringing with him chaos, insanity, and destruction. By laws that which the ordinary human couldn't understand, this dream demon could only frequent the reality of this dimension on a plane called the Mindscape. Without a body to inhabit he was the equivalent of a ghost, and unless someone shook his hand, he couldn't access one.

However, one Stanford Pines, desperate to find answers to the unknown, caught Bill Cipher's attention. He was convinced that Bill was an all-knowing being who could help with his research of the "why" in Gravity Falls. Bill, armed with flattery and encouragement, had the man create a dimensional portal, causing a tear in space and time that lead to the chaotic pyramid's physical presence in the world. Through the rip in the universe, he brought with him a flurry of demons and dementia. Had it not been for the actions of a select few, the triangular nightmare would have succeeded in his plans of ruling the world.

Despite witnessing what would traumatize most to never return again, Dipper Pines rejoined his great uncles in the coagulating point of many things magical. Before the almost end of the world, also known as Weirdmaggedon, his great-uncle Ford had offered the twelve-year-old an apprenticeship in all things paranormal. After having studied Ford's research all summer, the man had been a hero to him and he had wanted to accept on the spot. Instead, he gave up his dream so he could finish growing up with his twin sister, Mabel, back in California.

They had started college together, and Dipper made it through a few years before realizing his heart just wasn't in it. His mind was restless and aching to know the answers waiting for his discovery with his great-uncle back in Oregon. So the inseparable, separated, following their own paths. Mabel stayed in school, and she was expected to graduate her last year with a 3.7 GPA. And Dipper moved in with Ford and his twin brother Stanely.

As the months passed, Dipper quickly learned that just because someone has 12 doctorate degrees, doesn't mean that they know how to be a teacher. His Grunkle Ford was consistently frustrated in Dipper's lack of understanding of things not so easily explained. The young man couldn't recall exactly when he realized the author of the journals, the inspiration to his inquiring of magical mysteries, had given up on him. He imagined it was around the point when Dipper bought a new coffee pot for Ford to use in the lab so he didn't have to keep sending him up to the kitchen.

Having been officially shunned out of the lab hidden in the basement behind a vending machine, Dipper's presence now often graced the gift shop of the Mystery Shack. The real supernatural hidden behind a display of smoke and mirrors, obviously fake attractions named with puns. The sixpack-alope was a good example and tourist favorite. It was described as having a taxidermy head of an antlered deer on the neck of a wax figured strong man dwarf that balanced on two hoofed feet.

All the attractions were a credit to the imagination of his great uncle Stan, who had started the business as a way to make money while he tried to rescue Ford from another dimension. Providing tours, charging for pictures and selling Mystery Shack merchandise was their only source of income while Ford was hidden away asking the big questions. They had to pay the mortgage somehow. It wasn't what Dipper would rather be doing, and he still had a lot of spare time, but the business had begun doing rather well and Stan actually started paying him with a modest salary.

Sitting behind the register's counter on a backless stool Dipper wallowed. Ford had finally been successful in capturing a pixie early that morning. He didn't even bother asking to help anymore. He didn't want to see the older man try and hide the annoyance that started appearing on his face with each inquiry. So Dipper's navy blue sweater jacket hung forward on either side of the single black pine tree on his red t-shirt, his body hunched disappointedly. He cradled his chin in his right palm, his other arm resting flat against the wooden surface, picking at the folds and wrinkles of the fabric resting at his exposed elbow. The room was an odd temperature of being too cold for one layer but too warm for a jacket.

Dipper glanced up from his picking as a snowglobe was placed delicately by a well-manicured left hand. A woman about thirty years old greeted him with a smile and a friendly hello. Short blonde curls stopped at her chin, and she hooked the thin strap of her small purse from behind her back, ruffling her white button up blouse with puffy ruffled sleeves. She flushed a little when he ignored her polite acknowledgment.

"That'll be twenty dollars," Dipper mumbled through the pressure of his palm pressing into his chin. The tourist woman let her face fall from it's previously charming grin to a deadpan glare as she began to dig through her purse to pay for the cheap plastic snowglobe under the young man's unimpressed gaze.

"If you're going to cheat me out of eighteen bucks, the least you could do is smile about it." She growled.

"Dipper! What's wrong with you?!" The gravelly voice of his great uncle carried past the ending tour group filtering into the store from the side room of attractions. The woman looked towards Stan as he strode forward, pressing her lips into a thin line.

"Don't worry about it, miss. All we need as payment from you is a happy smile." His deep vocals drawled as he snatched the globe from the counter with his left hand. He stuck out his right for a handshake. "Deal?" The lady responded with a show of pearly teeth, nodding and shaking his hand in thanks.

Dipper's brows knitted together at the odd generosity displayed by his normally stingy uncle. This demonstration was far out of character, no woman was worth a loss of profit. He watched as their hands connected, and for a moment he could have sworn he saw a flash of blue flame lingering on the elder's palm when he pulled away from the gesture. Dipper snapped upright like a hinged toy, his chocolate orbs bulging in worry.

The woman glanced at Dipper and smirked, expecting his new found alertness caused by a reprimand to come. That was far from the case. Handshaking deal? Flash of blue flames? These were classic trademarks of a certain dream demon. One Bill Cipher, supposedly destroyed within the original memories of one Stanley Pines, stopping the advancement of demonic destruction via a blast from a memory gun! A memory gun that his own sister had stomped out of existence on their thirteenth birthday just before they left at the end of the summer seven years ago.

He moved his gaze to his uncle's face and gulped as he didn't see the familiar shade of brown iris looking back. Instead, he saw all yellow with black slits in their centers.

"Thank you for stopping by folks!" Bill spoke in the same gravely tone, a perfect imitation of Uncle Stan. He stepped over and picked up his old 8 ball cane he had left on the counter. "But we have to close early today! Seems like we have a bit of a staff problem." The tourists chuckled to themselves as Bill had twirled the stick in his hand at the word 'staff' and directed them towards the front doors.

The screen slammed against the frame behind the last person's exit and Dipper tensed while his uncle's body faced away from him. He watched the unsuspecting crowd get into their cars and continue on their way.

"Well well well well well." The familiar nasal tones cooed, taking the place of the previous imitation. Stan's body turned slowly and the world began to fade into shades of grey, and black. Dipper was pulled into the Mindscape, where time stopped around them and he couldn't call for help. Not that Ford would've heard him anyway.

"I had hoped to draw this out a little longer." Long legs carried Stan's body to face the front of his shaking form in three quick strides. Dipper's hands clenched into fists as his body quivered, more from anger rather than fear, he lied to himself. "Hope you're ready for the deal of your life, kid." Palms pressed into the register counter, that 8-ball cane sticking straight out behind him against the surface.

Pink lips turned a plusher crimson against the force of Dipper's teeth. He didn't know how the dream demon had managed to survive but he had a guess. Regardless, that wasn't what was important now. Standing across the splintery table top wasn't just an enemy, but an enemy in a position to harm his family. The wheels were turning beneath chestnut curls, searching desperately for a smidgen of a plan that could get them both out of this situation not only alive but demonic possession free. Stan's nostrils twitched, inhaling the placid air in pulses as if there were a scent lingering.

"Better be careful, Pine Tree. I think I smell smoke." The older man drawled. If there had been any room for doubt as to who the presence before him was, the familiar nickname shattered it.

It referred to his old baseball hat, the first gift his great uncle Stan had given to him that summer. It was blue in the back and white in the front, with a single blue pine tree in the front's center above the blue bill. And before Bill was defeated, it was Dipper's connection as one of Bill's only weaknesses. A zodiac wheel that prophecized a way to defeat the demon should he ever be unleashed upon the dimension. If those who represented the symbols had joined hands, Bill would have been destroyed by the magic. Though every person had been present and ready, Ford and Stan's differences prevented the circle from being complete and Bill had to be handled through other methods.

Afterwards, Wendy had taken his hat, to remember him by before he boarded a bus home, and traded it with the current brown flaphat he wore daily. Though the hat was gone Dipper still wore the single pine tree on his shirt as a badge of honor. A sign that he could have helped in breaking the demon's reign.

Pushing off the wood gently, legs spread in a slightly wider than shoulder stance, Bill placed the end of Stan's cane to the floor in front of him. One hand over the other cupped the rounded top, wrinkled fingers wiggled in short waves as he waited for Dipper to speak.

"Why would I be making another deal with you, Bill Cipher?" A stinging sensation distracted him from his fraying nerves, the rough nail tips dug into Dipper's palms. Cipher smirked, arching one caterpillar of an eyebrow.

"Well because within the next minute or so, your dear uncle's brain here," he tapped the side of the man's signature rouge fez atop his peppered hair. "will start to melt from the pressure of the mindscape." Panic slithered in Dipper's gut as questions stormed through his head like a fast-forwarding parade.

"You're bluffing!" He urged, hoping it was the truth. How was it even possible? Could the mindscape cause someone's death if they're forced into the plane while possessed? He had to be lying.

"Oh, I wish, kid." The demon possessed body of his uncle started to pace around the front room of the shack. His citrine orbs roamed the decor of the walls as if he was looking at them for the first time. "I mean you see for yourself, he's not here" He spun around, shrugging his shoulders, his palms flat to the ceiling.

It's true, usually, when Bill possessed a body, the previous inhabitant would be sent propelled into the mindscape, unseen by those on the normal plane. Bill brought them away from the normal plane and his great uncle Stan was nowhere in his sight.

"Nope, he's trapped in here with me and with every moment we both share this space on this plane, the pressure starts to build and " He brought the elder mans hands together, one a fist over the cane's top the other covering it. "Pop!" He burst them apart, demonstrating the effect.

Dipper's mouth momentarily fell open before clicking his teeth together, clenching his jaw. Bill was holding Stan hostage like a suicide bomber. A kamikaze pilot of possession. That's if the demon was telling the truth. Dipper processed the information, Bill had basically suggested that he was trapped in Stan's mind, with Stan.

"But to be honest, Fez's head here doesn't give me much to work with." The cane clicked against the ashen floor with each step across the room. "It's taken me five years of nonchalant bartering to get me to this point." Bill's voice rang with a sense of defeat that felt like a punch to Dipper's gut. He'd been back for that long? Dipper had only been present for the last year or so but, shouldn't he have noticed? The thought of Bill returning with his uncle's memories had occurred to him, but there had been no indication.

This was something slow in progression, a stealth mission. Bill couldn't have had Stan under constant was no way he could have had the strength for that if he only gained enough power for this kind of stunt after 5 years of manipulation. No, the demonic triangle possibly started with persuasive whispers. He had probably been studying his great uncle's mannerisms for quite some time. Dipper would have noticed rather quickly if Stan had seemed too out of character. And with Ford wrapped up so tightly in his research, that thought trailed off as Dipper realized that Stan's genuine kindness also stemmed from a loneliness he hadn't realized was there.

Soos, Stan's former maintenance man, and good friend had left Gravity Falls after his abuelita passed. He had moved in with his longtime girlfriend, Melody, in Portland. And this happened just before Wendy, his teenage part-time cashier, graduated from Gravity Falls High, who promptly followed suit to continue her education in the city. With his twin brother constantly inhabiting the basement searching for answers to the universe, Stan was more than welcoming of Dipper's company. A pang of guilt hit him like a slap in the face.

If Bill had another option over the years, he would have taken it. His powers were weakened to the tiniest blip on the magical scale after their last encounter. He couldn't leave this flesh suit, not unless someone knowingly agreed to let him out in a deal. And giving people handouts just didn't provide a lot of power generation. It takes a lot to come back from being almost erased out of existence you know. He looked down at the cheap leather watch on the old man's wrist. The second hand still ticked slowly over its face and Bill regarded it thoughtfully. Pretty soon, the atmosphere of Bill's magic would take its toll on Stan's body in this dimension, but after being exposed, this was his last resort to escape or die trying.

"Now, unfortunately, I'm at the edge of a cliff and you" the demon's voice hummed his address of Dipper like a boat rocked by a wave on the sea. "are all that stands between me and the crumbling rock face. And I will happily drag this geezer down with me." He turned and faced the young man, grinning sadistically. "You wouldn't want your great-uncle's death on your shoulders, would you kid?"

Dipper only hesitated a moment, his breath having been caught in his throat. Grunkle Stan had been the only light in the darkness of his current failures. If not for his reassuring affection, their fishing trips, and this job, Dipper felt he would have long drowned in his own hopelessness. The hopelessness that he had been so selfishly wrapped up in, he missed the fact his uncle was possessed right in front of his face. Dreaded resignation stagnated his flipping stomach. He turned his head before swinging it in a roll. He slammed his fists on the counter, finally having the will to move more of his body. He starred at the grey surface a moment, blinking away tears, willing away his self-hatred. Now was not the time. He lifted his eyes, peaking through the chestnut-colored curls of his bangs pressed against his forehead. He took in the vision of his "uncle's" knowing mug and his anger contorted his face so strongly his muscles ached.

"What are your terms?" He shuttered as the words threatened to make him violently sick, bitter and sticky against his tongue.

"Oh Pine Tree!" The demon twisted Stan's lips, a sneer of confidence. "I would have thought it was self-explanatory!"

Dipper was backed into a corner. If he had noticed Bill's tricks sooner. Maybe if he had paid more attention to his Grunkle's increased frequency of habitual handshakes? It seemed silly as he thought it, to consider such a normal gesture of a salesman as something important to note. Bill had been so careful. He had waited for just the right moments, grabbed just the right opportunities. He once again pushed aside the "if only" scenarios.

"Skip to the point, Cipher." He spat, his impassioned anger surged within him. Bill once again approached the counter, chuckling slightly as he bemused the fact that Dipper Pines was, in fact, going to be making a sale today.

"As you wish," He purred, passing the black cane from his right hand to his left. This opportunity was quickly slipping away. "You will be taking his place. Now, what would you like in exchange?"

Facing the possessed man, Dipper swallowed through the dryness of his mouth. It was a vague proposition. A simple trade of a life for a life. However, the young man knew better. He had made a deal once before with this evil. He had been just a boy then, about a month from becoming an official teen. In exchange for the password of a computer that contained important research on Gravity Falls, Dipper had traded a "puppet". One of the many mistakes he had made in this life. At the time he had been unaware that the research on that laptop was information on Bill's grand plan. The pressure of a countdown clock was ticking the seconds away from a memory wipe that had been triggered by so many failed password attempts. Dipper caved. He had shaken the demon's hand, blue embers licking their joined appendages. His soul was forced from his body, and without wasting any time, Bill used Dipper's physical form to destroy the computer despite their verbal agreement.

"Tick tock, kid!" Bill tapped his uncle's foot against the floor. "We don't have all day." Dipper was drawn out of his memory, Grunkle Stan's mind was on the line.

"How do I know you'll keep your word?" Bill scoffed at the twenty-one-year old's question, muttering about how he didn't have time for this, reiterating to Dipper that the crunch was indeed real to some extent. He wouldn't risk Stan's mind to find out just how much truth Cipher was telling.

"I don't have time for all the details," he hissed in reply. "Just know, I don't have the power to go back on a verbal contract at this time." Bill shoved the right hand of his current meat puppet forward. Dipper blinked, he hadn't even thought of his terms yet, but clearly, the end of their bargaining opportunity was crashing swiftly upon the both of them. He had no choice but to focus on the only one that mattered.

"No harm can come to any of my friends and family." Flames of electric blue burst forth from the wrinkled palm in front of him. He met the demon's snake-like gaze, seeing the lids of those eyes adjust ever so slightly closer together, a curt tilt of his uncle's head forward and Dipper reached out and wrapped his fingers in a strong handshake as Bill muttered his acceptance grudgingly.

"Deal," Bill growled.

Dipper cried out, a searing burning sensation ringing through his nerves, starting at the palm connected to his uncle's. His vision encased tightly behind crinkled lids, Dipper felt rather than saw the blue fire climb up his arm, beginning to engulf his body whole.

Stan's eyes rolled back in his head exposing blank whiteness. The flaring tongues of sapphire that engulfed his person on contact began to recede, flowing over Dipper instead. His head was thrown backward with such force, the flaphat he always wore falling to the floor. Gazing at the ceiling with yellowed eyes, his rounded pupils stretched into black slits and the young man screamed in agony, burning from the inside out. Tendrils of fire brushed up his neck and crept around his head, exploding into an inferno that forced his hair upward as if the wind were gusting strongly from beneath him. Bill manipulated his new body's vocal tones, and Dipper could feel the demon's revelry through the scorching agony surging in his bones before passing just as quickly as it had come. The brown curls on his head fell to rest like they had simply been ruffled by an affectionate hand. It was about time Bill's luck had started to turn around.

The echoing screams ended abruptly and color washed back into the Mystery Shack. Dipper could feel himself swaying on his feet, his ears ringing from the sudden silence and a familiar cackling echoed in his head. He placed his palms on the counter to stop himself from moving, but it didn't seem to keep the room from spinning. He couldn't be sure but he could've sworn he heard someone calling his name. Dipper. Dipper.

"Dipper!" Grunkle Stan grabbed his shoulders and shook the young man gently. "You don't look so good, kid." His gravelly voice finally drew Dipper's eyes up.

"Grunkle Stan?" After a moment of confusion, Dipper perked up, eagerly meeting his gaze. He sighed in relief, brown eyes, no longer yellowed by the demon's presence.

"Geez, kid. You should take the rest of the day off. You look like you're going to be sick." He removed his grasp and Dipper realized just how right his uncle was. His stomach churned in protest at the thought of relieving its contents. He rushed to the bathroom, black sneakers smacking against the hardwood taking him to the tiled room where he threw himself to his knees in front porcelain just in time.

His whole body writhed like a hanging worm from his legs upwards as bile pushed past his lips. He gripped the edge of the toilet trying to urge nausea to pass and his knuckles whitened under the pressure. He groaned through the dry heaves and his maneuvers slowed and stilled.

Lifting an arm to wipe his mouth of lingering sick and he slowly pushed himself off the floor. Forcing his body to lurch towards the sink he slapped at the faucet nozzles encouraging a rapid stream. Dipper heard Stan stop momentarily in the doorway and he waved him off, relieved when a sympathetic grunt proceeded the elder's retreating steps. Gratitude welled in his chest, water dripped from his open mouth and his breath was ragged.

Dipper forced his feet to carry him up the attic stairs, ignoring the shutters causing his body to quake. He tripped on the frame of the door barely saving himself from falling on his face. He let the door shut behind him he tried to clear the fuzziness in his head. A single palm pressing into his eye as he turned and let his bed catch his falling form. Everything was aching, pulsing as if he had just been through a rigorous training montage. He promptly let his consciousness fade away, his arm falling to his side as black cured his twisting vision.

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Note:

I'm not going to lie. I am scared as fuck posting this. I intend for mature language, sexual content, and general gore to be carried out in the process of telling this story.

Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

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 **Warning/**SPOILER**:**

Near the end of this chapter is a scene involving an animal attack. If this is something that could cause you some distress. Also after the animal attack there is an animal death.

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His own groan jarred Dipper to full consciousness and he lay for a moment trying to recall just when it was he had gone to bed. The attic was veiled in darkness save the moonlight streaming through the single triangle shaped window above his desk. As his eyes adjusted his memory flashed images of stale grey and blue fire and he swung himself violently upward.

His eyes bulged with anxiety and he felt tremors shaking his limbs. He fumbled out of bed, the balls of his feet pushing against the attic floor as he scurried in front of an antique full-length mirror. Stretching his eyelids apart with his fingers relief washed over him like a cool wave when his own chocolate brown orbs stared out from his reflection.

However, just as relief had settled, the image of his irises flashed gold, his pupils slimming momentarily verticle and he shrunk away from the reflective glass. He had hoped that it had merely been a horrible nightmare. A dark fantasy that was plaguing him in a reminder of past demons long defeated, but the dark chuckling within his own head crushed his hopes.

Recalling his deal with the despicable creature, Dipper's thoughts immediately went to that of his uncle. When he had encountered him post-handshake, while the memory was somewhat fuzzy, his great-uncle Stan had seemed as if he were once again himself and himself alone. Despite his less than ideal situation, Dipper felt reassured that Bill had actually followed through on his side of the bargain.

"Didn't I tell you, kid?" He jumped, startled by the nasal tones of the dream demon echoing in his head.

"Bill?" He looked around his bedroom, turning and searching for an outward show of his presence. "Where are you?" His question was answered as his eyes fell upon the mirror once more. Well, one of his eyes, as the left was glowing that citrine color. He was in his head.

"Give the boy a prize!" His response dripped enthusiastically. Dipper scratched at his left thigh and stepped closer to his reflection to examine his face. Everything else was as it should be and he realized that he wasn't wearing his signature brown flaphat over his curls. Moving back towards his bed he pulled his bedside table lamp's string and the room was shrouded in a warm glow. Where was his hat? Had he left it down in the gift shop?

He turned to his desk and saw the garment sitting on a raised corner on the back of his chair. Knowing his Grunkle Stan must have placed it there for him after he had passed out, he smiled. He knew how Dipper felt about that hat, a trade from his first crush in Gravity Falls, Wendy. His joyful grin faded as his hand that had reached out for his favorite head covering fell short of just grabbing it. His fingers refusing to close around it, to take it in his grasp. What?

"Not so fast, Pine Tree," Bill drawled. Was he keeping Dipper from putting on his hat? His legs forced him in a comical march, sticking straight out with each step before he was once again in front of that damn mirror, staring at his heterochromatic eyes. A hand lifted to his forehead, sliding upward to mow back his bangs and expose the succession of freckles hidden there. "Nice spots you got there. How long have you had 'em?"

Dipper's stomach flipped at the blatant display of control Bill had over his body. What followed after was a stream of mental berating on the obvious. Of course, Bill could control him, he had been controlling his Grunkle Stan after all. And he had agreed to take Stan's place, becoming Bill's new meat puppet.

"What's it to you?" Dipper snarled still scratching at his left thigh through his denim shorts with his one controlled hand. "And can't you just dig around in my head and find out?" Some all-knowing powerful demon Bill was turning out to be.

"While I could dig it out of your decorated skull," Bill teased. "There are other far more entertaining ways I can make you talk." The threat hung heavy in his words. Dipper was just starting to consider it when the section of his leg his nails had been digging at flared as if a heated prong were being pressed against his skin.

"What the fuck? What the fuck!" Dipper exclaimed, backside thumping to the floor and pulling his left shorts leg upward. He hissed as the rough fabric grazed the sensitive skin. Bad move! He fumbled with his pants and forced them to bunch around his knees. He blinked at the edge of a black shape peaking from beneath his boxers. He lifted the lose, and thankfully much softer fabric up and exposed a solid black triangle three inches in size staining the surface of the taut muscle. A double pointed oval of his pale skin took up the middle of the space and a black vertical line was at its nerves flared in pain, a blue glow emanating from it.

"What the fuck!" Dipper cried out again, and Bill laughed. "You branded me?"

"Your welcome!" He taunted the boy gleefully. "So about your starry face," The mark flared once more and Dipper hissed a string of swears before replying.

"All my life! All my life! Now stop! Stop!" The burning subsided to a dull thrum that seemed to match a humming of consideration from his invisible conversation partner. "Why is it important?" He panted, pulling his shorts back up gingerly as he stood.

"Who said it was important? I just have a curious nature."

"You-" Dipper was about to tell him off but stopped himself as his thigh pulsed in remembrance. He'd rather avoid that particular sensation for the moment. "Not a lot of people know about it. My parents gave me the nickname over a decade ago." It had been their attempt at turning a negative into a positive.

His birthmark had triggered years of teasing and scalding remarks from his peers as he grew up. And while his father's gift of hats was helpful, he had to give credit to his mom. She bestowed the nickname like an alter ego. And Dipper had taken it and ran. As 'Dipper Pines' he felt he was capable of far more.

Now that Dipper had answered one of Bill's questions, a barrage of his own flooded his mind. The most troubling one being, could he find a way out of this mess?

"The big dipper." Bill's voice cut through the drifting stream, considering it with an almost hungry tone. "Fascinating."

Dipper sighed in relief as his body was finally allowed to carry himself back to his hat, shove it on his head and sit on the edge of his mattress. He pulled out his cell from his pocket and looked at the time. 3:33AM. He snorted at the demonic horror movie cliche. But now his mind had trailed back to the vague terms of their agreement, specifically Bill's side.

"So, what are you-" How does one even ask that question? What do you need my body for? How can I get you out of my head today? There didn't seem to be a right way, so he finished his thought, "Going to use me for, anyway."

"Whatever I want." Bill's quick response caused Dipper's eyes to bulge. "And however long I want." Oh, he was so royally fucked. "Maybe you missed it, Pine Tree, and pay attention because I'm going to spell it out for you." His head turned itself toward that damned mirror across the room, both eyes now demonstrating Bill's control. His own mouth moved, bringing to life the sound of the demon's voice that until now had only been an echo within his mind. "I own you."

Dipper slapped hands, one over the other, on his mouth and shuttered while Cipher cackled within his thoughts. The message was loud and clear. Any movement he made by his own will, it was a gift. Bill could maneuver and control his every action if he wanted to. He could make him do or say whatever he wanted, in Dipper's voice or his own. Dipper let his hands fall to his lap, wincing at accidental contact to the painful claim beneath denim.

All Bill had said before Dipper had willingly shaken his hand, was that Dipper would be taking his uncle's place. What that had exactly entailed hadn't been revealed. And it wasn't as if they had the time to explain it. A perk that had tipped things in Bill's favor. Dipper's body belonged to Bill, but his mind was still his own.

"Oh, that's good." Bill hummed, clearly pleased by his reaction. "You know, I like you, kid." Dipper wasn't thrown off by the sudden admission having heard it once before long ago. "There is a way you could help us both out."

Dipper narrowed his eyes, suspicious of his intentions. His lips pressed together as he gazed across the room in an act of confrontation. At least one of his eyes had returned to normal. Dare he ask? Bill didn't wait for him to.

"It'll get me out of your hairy skullcap." He sang the last word like a song, taunting. Dipper only glared at his reflection, focusing on that one glowing eye. "Admit it, you're interested." Bill urged. It wasn't a lie, Dipper was indeed interested, but once again he had consequences to consider. And now he had time to think about it, to ask questions.

"Would you still have control over my body?" Dipper asked slowly.

"Oh absolutely!" Bill grinned. "There's no going back on that, Pine Tree. That was the deal. Your meat sack is my vessel." Dipper scoffed, his interest was fading until Bill continued to explain. "But I know how much you appreciate your personal space."

"Personal space?" Dipper repeated, his curiosity once again peaked. So while Bill could still control him, it wouldn't be from within Dipper's head. Instead, it would be from the outside. He liked the idea of an increase in privacy. Currently, Bill was forced to watch his every move, there was no way Dipper could sneak behind his back and find a way out. Yes, personal space would be ideal to try and find a way to break free and destroy the demon, permanently.

"If you're up for the task." Bill hinted. This was going to be something that Dipper wasn't going to like. Of course, something as valuable as space away from his new puppet master would have a hefty price. Time to calculate its worth.

"What kind of task?" That golden eye in his reflection seemed to twinkle. Dipper's throat clenched.

"Just a small, and willingly performed sacrifice! Emphasis on the willing, of course"

"Fuck no!"

Dipper would have to find another way to get Bill out of his head. Maybe if he could ask his great-uncle Ford if there was a way he could suppress the demon. And then knock him out of Dipper's mind. The flaw in that was Bill would never give him the chance. "I'm not killing anyone." He turned away from the glass, his eyes trailing to his messy desk riddled with notes he hadn't been able to look at for months. A small ache twinged in his chest.

"Baby steps, Pine Tree." Bill was clearly pleased with where the boy's mind had traveled. Dipper's stomach twisted at the suggestion of future possibilities. "You eat meat, don't you? A little rabbit stew for some additional privacy? Not a bad trade in my opinion."

Glancing toward the mirror he looked at himself, that glowing eye hiding in his current position. He let the demon's words sink in. It would be no different than hunting for survival. With more space between him and Bill, there was a far better chance of him finding his own loophole. To escape.

"It's your's to consider, kid. I can't force you to. Well clearly I could but it would defeat the purpose."

"What do you mean?" Dipper asked, fully facing his reflection again.

"The power is in the intent. You have to intend to make me the offering. It's not exactly your own intent if I'm the force behind the knife." It made sense.

"Emphasis on the willing." The young man repeated. His head nodded once, courtesy of Bill. So his uncle probably hadn't gone out on any killing sprees. As far as he knew anyway. Grunkle Stan seemed to have forgotten that he had held the tyrannical triangle in his head for over five years. "My uncle didn't uh-" Could he even ask? Would Bill tell him the truth in the first place?

"Nah kid," Bill didn't want to admit to just how powerless he had been in the confines of that prison of a mind. Keeping Fez-Head unaware had been the best course of action, though long and tedious. It was better than having to fight through Stan trying to suppress him. And loathe he was to admit that the man could've held out for a while. Long enough for his brother to do away with him.

Hiding, suggesting and manipulating, oh had it worked out in his favor. He had snagged Pine Tree, and the power boost had been a welcome side-effect. Now all he needed was to push him in the right direction.

"He didn't know he had the pleasure of my company. And anytime I took the reigns was simply blacked out from his memory." A little truth sprinkled here and there would help.

Dipper regarded his options quietly. He knew what he would get out of it, but what of Bill Cipher? The young man analyzed Bill's position and how he had gotten to where they were currently.

Bill needed to gain power in order to get to this point. He had done that through petty bartering through the business of the Mystery Shack. In making a much more significant deal, Bill now had more significant power. If Dipper made a sacrifice in Bill's name it would give Bill the power to have more freedom. And who knows what else?

Bill knew that Pine Tree was putting the puzzle together. The kid was smart but wasting his talents. Dipper didn't have any other option. Yes, the sacrifice would give Bill more of his energy back, but he knew the kid wanted to fight for his freedom. A way to once again rid the world of Bill, and make it stick. If the demon you're trying to get rid of is watching your every move then you don't stand a chance.

"Fine." Before Dipper even finished saying the word his body was moving towards the door. "Hey! Hey, wait?!"

"No time like the present, Pine Tree!" Bill echoed in his head cheerily. He sounded giddy as if he were a child heading to the fair for the first time.

"It's almost four in the morning!"

"Time is an illusion!"

"I thought I had to do this on my own!" Dipper exclaimed, panicking as his feet lead him down the hall. This wasn't right, it didn't feel right. He'd never killed an animal before! Maybe he accidentally crushed an occasional bug or spider but, he never approached a living thing with the intent to kill. He hadn't been that cruel since the multi-bear! Now his head searched frantically for anything that would make his body stop moving. He tried to grab the wall as he rounded the corner but his fingers simply brushed the edge and started to trail a line against the rest of the hall. Bill hummed through Dipper's voice a joyous song, jaunty even.

"Think of it like a field trip! A biology excursion! You're broadening your horizons!" Bill persisted his points within his head, still humming through Dipper's vocals. The more Bill insisted, the more Dipper felt like he had made a mistake. He was reaching for the handle to open the door to the porch, his face was burning.

"I said I'd do it just not now!"

"Dipper?" His fingers stopped just short of the knob when Ford's voice reached his ears. "What are you doing up so late?" Dipper huffed for a moment, wondering if his great-uncle even knew what time it was with how little he ventured from his research cave.

"I'm not up late I'm up early." The young man countered smartly as he turned to face him. Technically it was true as he had slept through most of the night. The elder gave an indigenized sigh.

"Very well, what are you doing up so early?" Ford asked and Dipper couldn't help the resentment coiling within. What was with the interrogation? He felt the elder had in him a lack of trust that his Grunkle Stan had shown him his first summer there.

"As long as I'm not in your way then what should it matter?" He responded coldly.

"It matters if you're going to put yourself at risk. I'm responsible for your well being."

"Oh push off! Go back to your lab. I'm going for a walk." Dipper turned and grasped the handle he had been so unwilling to before. His legs stretching in long, running strides carrying him out into the pine forest.

As the distance between him and the shack grew, his pace slowed. He bent down and picked up a random stick, dragging it along the dirt as he persisted deeper into the woods.

"Damn, Pine Tree. That was rough."

"Pssht. He's been like that ever since I came back." Even before he said it Dipper knew it wasn't entirely true. His Grunkle Ford had been so thrilled when he first came back to Gravity Falls. However, every time Dipper tried to communicate his own theories he had been missing some piece of the puzzle that Ford hadn't thought to explain. This made Dipper look foolish as well as annoyed the elder. It was a constant pattern in their communication that left them both frustrated. Dipper had grown more depressed and his great-uncle Ford became more distant.

"He doesn't appreciate your potential, kid." Dipper laughed aloud at Bill's comment.

"Yeah, sure." His words were sullen and dry. "I have a multitude of uses. Filing, stenographer, steward, and let's not forget, the ultimate fall guy!" He swung the stick at a stalky pine trunk as he passed. The inch and a half thick branch splintered a couple inches shy of his grip. Dipper growled and tossed the rest of the scrap behind him.

Bill hadn't noticed before but Dipper was stronger than he looked. Any muscle on the boy was mostly hidden under his baggy attire and was easy to miss. Bill thought back to the scene in the attic when the boy had discovered Bill's anchor to him. His thighs were decently thick and meaty. He is quite the hiker, Bill noted to himself as even in the dark Dipper walked in confidence of roots and stones, knowing the path he strode on from frequency.

"Honestly, Pine Tree," Bill was planning on taking advantage of this violent inner rage. "Did you see his face back there?" The demon conjured up a mental recall, though a tad more dramatic than reality. He pushed the image to the front of Dipper's mind and the brunette's fists clenched. Pity. Ford was pitying him, humoring him. Bill could barely contain his glee at the flare of anger within the kid's head. "That's not a face you deserve after all the things you've seen."

Dipper knew Bill's game but his emotions were already a battle for him. Bill was adding fuel to an already frenzied inferno. For months Dipper had been struggling with his relationship with him and his once idolized great-uncle. He had given up a potential future for a past promise that the elder had failed to make good on. Ford was supposed to teach and guide him but, what now? And after putting his trust in Ford's abilities it hurt that the bridge did not run both ways.

Dipper could feel the embarrassing stinging behind his eyes swelling. He wondered if it were even possible for him to fall any lower. His vision now obscured with salt water he stopped and dropped to his knees in the midst of the roughly carved path. When did his life get so fucked up? When he dropped out of college despite his high grades? When his Grunkle Ford had given up on him?

"Hey, Pine Tree?" Bill cooed tentatively. Dipper ignored him. He was tired of the demon's comments and refused to acknowledge that Bill was even there to see him so vulnerable. He was breaking down. There was nowhere for him to go. "Kid." The voice strived casually as if he were only half interested in expressing his thoughts.

"Not now." Dipper sniped. He just wanted it all to stop. He wanted to stop feeling like such a failure, a fool whose only worth was to that of a desperate and weakened being of energy. He looked up at the sky that had slowly started to lighten. It said he had been skulking around the dark for almost two hours.

"You might want to consider-" Bill's offhanded persistence was cut short.

"Just drop it, Cipher!" The damn triangle couldn't give him a moment of peace!

"Suit yourself," Bill responded with a mental shrug.

Dipper was about to celebrate his small victory when he heard a rush of pattering behind him. He turned his waist to face the noise just in time for a snout of sharp teeth to wrap around the top of his left shoulder. Fear coursed through him as he fell backward into the browned needles, leaves, and dirt. He pushed his arms out in an attempt to free his body from the clamping grey mass of fur. In doing so he felt the fangs push deeper, ripping into his flesh making him cry out in agony. He jammed his knee upward into the animal's belly but it didn't hit as hard as he had hoped, the angle had been too awkward.

"I tried to tell you, Pine Tree." Bill was cackling, amused at the primal encounter. The lone wolf had been following the young man for the last 20 minutes. After Dipper had fallen to his knees the stray beast regarded the opportunity for a meal and had begun to prowl closer. It was in those last few moments before the pounce that Bill had tried to bring the situation to the kid's attention.

Dipper growled, adrenaline kicking in as he pulled back his right hand into a fist. He brought it forward, smashing it with all his strength into the animal's skull. He didn't know those canines could sink any deeper but the pressure from the punch connecting caused his flesh to wrap further around the intruding bone. But, Dipper had successfully disorientated the wolf and rolled to the right, bringing his knee up to push into its abdomen.

Rushing warm crimson splurged forth as his shoulder was freed. The animal squirmed beneath the weight and Dipper pushed down harder causing a squeaking yelp. The young man reached toward the thrashing head of the beast and that jaw once again managed to snap down on his body. Greedily it claimed his right hand between his index finger and thumb and Dipper was forced to let his arm go limp. He didn't want a struggle for the appendage to cause damage he couldn't recover from.

He thrust another punch, this time against its thrashing neck, and again he was free. Before it had time to recover, Dipper folded his arms in front of himself and thrust them against the wolf's neck. He used all his weight to push his forearms into the beast causing its head to still and choking sounds from its mouth. Dipper pushed harder, moving his other leg to stretch against the ground beside the creature, his toes spread in his shoe as he pushed against the ground at an angle that tilted the side of his hip into the air. The being beneath him stopped moving and after a few extra moments of stillness, Dipper threw himself off the animal. His wounded hand pressing against his shoulder trying to stop the bleeding. He gazed down at the wolf and watched its side heave in shallow breaths. It was still alive. And then came the slow clap.

"Oh wow. Wow! What a show!" Bill exclaimed in increasing singular applause. "That was fantastic! I truly am impressed!" The clapping came to a halt and Dipper's body moved closer to his attacker of its own volition. "You know, you might as well finish the job, Pine Tree." His leg moved and hovered over the wolf's neck, ready to stamp down.

Dipper was starting to feel dizzy, his stomach woozy. Is that all he had to do? Bring his foot down upon this lonely creature that had just been looking for some breakfast?

"This is as far as I can take you, kid." Bill's voice rang through his fading head. "You might want to make it quick and not just for this poor bastard. I don't have enough power to heal wounds like yours. Not yet at least." The last comment was joyful and Dipper sighed. He couldn't refuse to do it at this point. God damn it! Would he ever not be cornered into making choices?

The wolf's neck made a disgustingly loud and sudden crack against the heel of his shoe. A small whimper echoed against the pines as the first rays of light from the sun spilled over the horizon. Dipper felt a pleasant warmth from the mark on his thigh spread down and up his body. His shoulder and hand began to sting, sparking to life under familiar blue fire. He watched in awe as bits of his flesh reached out and joined together. Blood that had been flowing outward began to stream back as if time was rewinding. The haziness that had been building began to fade away like a bad memory.

Oh, that definitely felt weird.

Dipper backed away into a nearby tree and watched as a blaze of sapphire drew an equilateral triangle line by line into the corpse of the beast. The smell of burning flesh teased his nose and Dipper brought his newly healed hand to cover it as the inferno engulfed its fuel greedily. What had he done?

* * *

Note:

Once again, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed.

Stuff You Might Not Care About:

I'm struggling a bit with the websites formatting issues. I tried to mark a scene that could potentially be triggering to some but my markers didn't show.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

* * *

"I am NOT doing that again," Dipper repeated the mantra as the Mystery Shack loomed before them just past the slowly approaching tree line. "Not ever again." He looked down at his hand that a couple of hours ago had a chunk missing from it. The flesh had simply returned, growing and connecting together like someone had pressed the fast-forward button on healing. And no scarring lingered, there or on his shoulder. Even his clothes had knitted back together where sharp fangs had desperately torn through to the treat of muscle beneath, not a stain to be found. It was like it never happened, on the outside.

"I don't care if you offer to leave my head and never come back! I am not, and I repeat, will not, ever, be doing that again!" Speaking of, the demon was still rattling around in his noggin and Dipper couldn't help but feel cheated. The young man had hoped, imagined even, that upon the death of the opportunistically chosen animal, Bill would burst through his skull like a ghost through a wall, leaving him the sole occupant of his mind. He quickly found that wasn't the case and Dipper chastised himself for considering the demon had been telling the truth in the first place. Though honestly what had he expected? He should've known better than to trust Bill fucking Cipher, so he didn't press the matter.

"I heard you the first hundred times, kid." Bill sighed, but not in annoyance. He was content, almost sated, like they were returning from a relaxing spa and retreat. As he opened the door, Dipper's stomach let out a gurgling plea. He'd been awake for almost a quarter of a day and he hadn't eaten anything.

"Since you've been a good boy," Bill started as if on cue. "I think you've earned some free time!" Dipper scowled and made his way into the kitchen, hoping to scrounge up a quick something to scarf. He began putting together a simple PB and J.

"You sure you can manage?" Dipper's sarcastic reply made Bill chuckle. "Doesn't seem like you can leave me alone." While he was making light of it the brunette's hopes were soaring at the prospect.

"Oh, I have an errand or two." Bill hummed thoughtfully. "But before I leave my dog unattended," Dipper was just putting together the two slathered bread slices when he felt the world sway beneath him. The young man kept himself from falling by dropping his lopsided sandwich and grabbing the counter's edge. "I need to make sure you don't bark at the neighbors." Bill finished. And then just like that, Dipper was left in silence.

"Bill?" He called out mentally. No response. There was only the low ringing of his ears as the swaying world once again stilled. His was head deserted except that of his own thoughts and compulsion. It was too good to be true, so he waited, calling out once more in his mind. It seemed to echo as if he were in an empty hall with tall ceilings. The sound bouncing off the interior and reverberating through the air unhindered.

The demon was gone.

His lips curled, cheeks tensed and compacted as the humungous grin conquered his face. Small bursts of disbelieving breaths turned into full-throated laughter shaking his body and coming in intense waves that hurt his stomach from exertion. Dipper only managed to sober himself when he remembered that this freedom was only temporary.

He practically shoved the sandwich down his throat, jugging a can of Pitt cola to wash it down as he stormed through the doors. He had to get to his Grunkle Ford. He had to tell him Bill was once again there to terrorize this dimension, to destroy the world! He threw open the screen of the gift shop and rushed forward.

BAM!

Dipper stumbled backward having collided into the thin frame of a young woman. She careened back on wedge heels and was flailing an arm attempting to regain her balance. And failing at it. His hand shot forward, gripping her swinging wrist and pulled to help steady her while stuttering out a quick apology.

"Sorry! I wasn't paying attention! I was ju-" Dipper had started to explain when he realized exactly who it was before him. His eyes scanned over her, toe to head.

White wicker wedge heels lifted the young woman an extra two inches. Hugging her waist was a sharp royal purple pencil skirt stopping just before her knees, short slits in the fabric on either side. A white button-up blouse was tucked underneath the edge of her lower garment. The sleeves were rolled up and a few buttons undone at the collar. A mix of thin golden chains and pearls hung from her neck dangling just over her shirt, and her bleach blonde hair was pulled back into a complicated artful updo.

"Watch where you're going!" The command passed through pink lips that began to form an oh when her blue eyes met his brown. "Dipper Pines!" She exclaimed suddenly. She pulled back her arm and brushed the imaginary dust from her front.

"Pacifica Northwest." Dipper playfully mocked through a small smile. He hadn't seen her since the last time he went into town. That being a month ago and had ended on bitter terms.

Back when Dipper had first arrived they had bumped into each other, much like what had just occurred, as she was leaving one of the stores. She had been struggling to carry her shopping bags through the small opening of the shop's glass door as Dipper was walking past. She tripped on the frame and brought them both to meet the sidewalk. After awkward apologies and an offer to help with her bags in exchange for lunch, they had spent the rest of that day catching up.

Pacifica's family had briefly struggled after selling their mansion on the hill. Stocks in the Northwest company had started to plummet and Pacifica's father had been forced to sell. Whatever luxuries they had left were pawned away and they suffered for a small time as simple upper-middle-class citizens.

The young blonde had been so relieved when her father's business savviness had given them an unexpected turn around in the economic food chain. Once again they were part of that one percent, and Pacifica, having blasted through her bachelor degree in business with a minor in fashion, was being groomed to take over the new company one day. Much to the disappointment of her mother, who simply wanted her daughter to marry rich like she did so they could spend endless shallow time together.

The two young adults would meet periodically over the course of the last year. Pacifica griping about the pressures of her father's expectations and Dipper about his failures under his Grunkle's tutorage. Though, Pacifica was still a very self-centered individual, that last time they encountered each other, she had given Dipper some unwelcome advice.

"Just go back to school!" She had insisted as she swung her minigolf club. "All you're doing now is sulking! You aren't going anywhere and if you don't make a choice then you never will!" Her opinion was followed by the soft clunk of her ball falling into the cup. Her words were as spot on as her aim, but Dipper didn't want to accept it. He grabbed his ball and club and returned them to the rental booth without another word to her. He hadn't spoken to her since.

"How are you?" Her blue eyes glanced to the side and she draped her arm just under her chest, fingers wrapping around her bicep. Her voice was timid, gently probing for fear he was offended by her intruding at his safe haven of the Mystery Shack.

"Are you checking up on me?" Dipper questioned, his eyes observed a faint flush appear beneath her makeup. He raised an eyebrow.

"No!" She denied and began to stutter. "I was just-I mean I was" She trailed off with a sigh. "Maybe." She grumbled, glaring at the brunette with an icy stare that melted away as quickly as it appeared. A small warmth sparked in his chest at the gesture. It was nice that she was thinking about him, but he had other things on his mind right now.

"Well, I'm fine, thanks. I gotta talk to Ford," His eyes glanced around the shop for any onlookers. It was quiet except for Grunkle Stan's mumbling from the next room. Probably putting together some new attraction.

"Look, Dipper. I just wanted to-" Dipper put a hand on her shoulder and slid past her toward the vending machine, typing in the code. "Hey! I'm trying to apologize!" She huffed but the door had already closed behind him.

The steps creaked beneath Dipper as he descended into the cool darkness. His hand slid against the cement wall as a guide. The doorway below him was pulsing with a glowing light and he saw the shadow of his great-uncle pass it, crossing the room within. A knot of nerves twisted in his gut as he remembered earlier that morning. He tried to recall his Grunkle Ford's face without Bill's influence, but if anything it only caused it to morph even further. His look of pity added remorse fueling thoughts. Ford speaking in his mind, saying that Dipper should have never returned to Gravity Falls. That he was useless and burdensome.

Dipper's feet stilled, the faint sounds of beakers clinking, a few tools clanging faded as his thoughts consumed him. What would his great-uncle think of him, having made such a deal with the enemy? He imagined being scolded for not calling the demon's possible bluff. Berated for not allowing his Grunkle Stan to fade away, his mind crushed from the pressure of the two energies merged in the Mindscape. Sure, Ford loved his brother, but allowing the world to be threatened once more by a being they barely defeated the first time was too much of a risk for the geezer to take. There was no doubt in Dipper's mind he would have let his Grunkle Stan die.

A growl curdled in his throat and he pushed himself forward. His own feelings aside, saving the world, again, was far more important. He stepped through the doorway, his eyes rested on his great-uncle's back, hunched over a table top. The elder was clearly lost in concentration and oblivious to his guest. Dipper opened his mouth to try and speak, but nothing came out. Perplexed his lips came together in a stiff line. His brow furrowed and he again opened his mouth to speak but his voice failed him.

"Grunkle Ford?" Dipper managed after a few more attempts and startled himself at his successful test.

"Just a moment Dipper." His great-uncle responded without turning. "I'm in the midst of something very delicate." His voice came in strained breaths. Dipper wanted to scream in response. Grunkle Ford, I made a deal with Bill to save Grunkle Stan's mind and he's controlling me!

"Grunkle Ford-" This was all that made it past his lips. His voice box acted as if it were stunted, refusing to say anything more than the man's name. Dipper quaked in frustration, his hands balled in fury at his inability to force out the words.

"I said in a moment." His Grunkle's voice was softer, surprisingly lacking in irritation with how loud Dipper had just been. The elder man took a small dropper and stuck it into one of the beakers. He turned to another vial in the arrangement before him.

Dipper's mind was racing. How could he say what he needed to without actually saying it? His mind fogged when he attempted to process the concept, even the subject of Bill Cipher. Dollar bill.

"Dollar" It came out in a whisper. Okay, there was some progress. Deal. Barter. Handshake. His thoughts pushed and his inner voice became more frantic and intense

"Handshake." Saved Grunkle Stan.

"Saved!" Dipper shouted irritably and stomped his foot.

The room shook as a forceful plume pushed his Grunkle Ford a few steps backward, coughing and waving his hand in front of his face, trying to stave off the smoke.

"Dipper!" The elder roared and turned his furious eyes upon him. His tall form loomed ominously as he rushed toward his great-nephew, his steps stretching with each word. "When I say in a moment I mean in. a. moment!" He enunciated, snarling uncharacteristically. His Grunkle's face that had been shadowed by the dim lights and screens became more clear in close proximity. His eyes were blackened by dilated pupils that would have normally scared the brunette but Dipper could only feel a rage in him as his eyes met the elder's seething contempt.

"I'm trying to-" His words stunted again. "I-" He couldn't get it out. It was like trying to climb a flat slippery surface at a verticle angle. He couldn't get a grip!

"You have no idea what you-" Ford huffed but the elder struggled with words just as Dipper seemed to. Two six-fingered hands raised near his chest, making to grab him but not committing to the action. They instead closed into fists and pushed towards the floor at his great-uncle's sides. "Get out!" The growling command came hoarsely from deep in the elder's throat.

Dipper acknowledged that there was nothing more he could do and his great-uncle was clearly lost in himself. And he couldn't even get the words out if he wanted to. Dipper turned away from Ford tearing up the steps. He retreated past the hidden door, slamming it shut behind him. He strode past gawking tourists that were swarming the shop and his dear Grunkle Stan, who was blinking at him with a stunned expression. His eyes watched the young man fly out the door.

Dipper's rage was a bubbling acid in his gut and a pressing tension in his head. His renewed scowl creased tight lines in his face as he jumped past the porch steps. His muscles jolted in quick spasms even as his hands pulsed and flexed in a desperate need to destroy and break. Never had he felt such an intense unbridled fury surge in his blood. His heart thumping in rapid succession as if it were egging him on.

His legs stretched at a run as he rounded the building passing a familiar single stump with an ax in the surface. Without pause, his hand swooped the tool into his grasp. He approached a large grey tarp and threw the covering back to reveal a wood pile. Throwing log after log within grabbing range of the stump his pores swelled droplets of perspiration from his brow.

He approached the stump and shoved the first log against the pale rings of the surface. He brandished the ax high above his head and he brought it down through its center. The chunk split apart, the strength of the plummet sent the halves flying to either side. Dipper huffed, the swirling storm within him calling for more. He readied another log. And another. Each plunge of the dull blade against the splintering pieces didn't relieve Dipper's temper but instead ignited a deeper desire to ravage.

As he raised the ax again, a hand on his shoulder caused him to turn and the sight of his Grunkle Stan, looking him over with heightened concern barely stopped him from that downward motion. Suddenly his grip on the weapon loosened, and the tool cluttered to the grass behind him. The fume of Dipper's temper began to clear his head like a veil of madness had been lifted. He questioned why he had been so worked up in the first place.

"Dipper, what's goin' on with you?" Stan asked in a worried tone. The young man licked his lips, his mouth opening and shutting but no words fell out.

"It's-" There it was, that fucking word wall, blocking his vocal and mental path. "It's frustrating!" His voice was an intense growl. as he kicked the uncut log from the stump and sat. Even with that demonic triangle out of his head, he couldn't speak as he wanted! He was still being controlled even in Bill's absence and it was driving Dipper up the wall! He buried his head in his hands, pushing them up his face and pressing his palms into his eyes.

"Oh, I know what this is," His Grunkle Stan said knowingly. Dipper perked up, eyes wide and his hopes revived. Had he remembered something? Did Bill slip up? "This is about that girl, isn't it?" And just like that, his dream was murdered. And girl, what girl? Pacifica? He groaned.

"No! Grunkle Stan-" Dipper tried to deny but his good old great-uncle cut him off.

"I know, it's hard to talk about your feelings." Dipper shamelessly tuned him out, though his uncle was too immersed in his own advising to realize.

His Grunkle thought he was having woman troubles. Pacifica troubles to be precise. He pondered the idea for a moment. He had never considered her as more than a friend before. Sure he had his fantasies when he was younger, but her obnoxious personality had always been a drawback. Pretty on the outside but bland on the inside. Though it had been nice that she came out to apologize to him, even if it took her a month to do it. Could he even have a relationship after selling himself to a demon? Dipper shook the thought from his head. His lack of love life was not the biggest problem he had right now. There had to be another way to get a message of help out.

"-written my share of letters-"

"Huh?" Dipper asked, suddenly intrigued with Stan's speech. "What was that?" His Grunkle rubbed the back of his neck, another hand on his hip as he stared into the distant treetops.

"I said, if you have trouble saying the words, you should try a letter." Dipper blanched at the idea. A letter! Of course! Though there were probably unknown restrictions in what exactly he could do, he had a better chance of finding a way around it on paper. He had to start quickly, too much time had already been wasted.

"That's a great idea! Thanks, Grunkle Stan!" And with that Dipper was off to the attic, barely hearing his uncle's "Sure. Anytime."

He flung his previous research off the surface of his desk and pulled out an old tattered notebook. His eyes frantically scanned the wood top for a pen, pencil, anything to write with. His fingers scrambled through boxes of old chewed caps and corpses of plastic encasing burst wells of ink, before he tore through his book bag, freeing a glorious clicking writing utensil. He flipped the journal open to the easiest available page, not caring where he started his work. A quick scribble of circles in the corner got the ink of the pen flowing. Dipper was grinning maniacally as he brought the pen down and-

Nothing.

Dipper's hand would not move, it wouldn't even bring the ballpoint to touch the page. He pushed his fingers, willing them to bring it down upon the paper, to scratch out the smallest of scribbles. It remained stationary, floating just the tiniest millimeter away from grazing the light blue lined surface. He put his left hand on his right and tried to force the pen down. Both of his hands simply stilled at his attempt. His own body kept himself from applying the pressure.

Okay, maybe if he didn't focus on what he was trying to say. He sat, his eyes closed for a moment, and he took in a deep breath. Dipper felt his lungs inflate to their max and slowly he let the air release back out. He pressed the pen to the paper and his eyes snapped back open, he gasped joyously as words finally took form in the blue ink.

 _I am writing a letter. The reason for this is because I made a mistake. I-_

And as quickly as he had started he was once again forced to stop. He frowned and began clicking the pressure point atop the thin plastic stick. Dipper began to ponder what he had learned. He can still write things down, he just couldn't be thinking about Bill when he did it. The same could be said for speaking. Any time he associated the words with Bill or their arrangement, his mouth refused to produce the words. His throat would constrict and his tongue would tie leaving his mouth dry and his mind hazy.

I _made a mistake. I am very sorry. I made a-_

Dipper growled at the halting hand, tears of frustration forming in the corners of his eyes. Move. He pushed his teeth together, grinding down. He slid forward slouching against the table, his chin was practically against the wood. Just move!

It was his second break down that day, and it wasn't even noon. His head tucked and his bangs pressed against his skull, resting on the desk. Dipper's shoulders were shaking with sobs, his head rolled left and right on the grain. Why wouldn't his hands just move? Why wouldn't his mouth just speak? Dipper's body wasn't his anymore. He had given it up to save his Grunkle Stan. He had sold his soul house. Bill Cipher had the lease and while he still got to live there, he was only renting space. Bill's rules to abide.

The brunette growled with tenacious determination swelling in him, he gripped the pen tighter. Dipper Pines would not take this. Dipper Pines would fight, kick, and scream before he accepted defeat. No, he would NEVER accept defeat. Not to Bill FUCKING Cipher.

 _Grunkle Ford,_

 _I'm sorry. I made a mistake. We had a deal several years ago. It went sour in unspeakable ways. I hope you understand._

 _Me, with Lead._

Dipper looked it over. It was crude and silly. It made enough sense to present a front but was vague and unusual enough to make Ford look into it further. Unless he really did think he was that stupid. If he had more time he could fashion something wittier, but as far as he knew Bill was already on his way back. He doubted the demon would stay gone for long. He had to get this letter to Ford. He folded the paper into thirds with the message facing in and wrote "To Grunkle Ford" in large letters on the back.

He felt a lot lighter with his mission mostly accomplished. His tense muscles were starting to retract, relaxing as he drew closer to the gift shop. His Grunkle Stan was behind the counter and gave him a supportive wave before jabbing his pointer finger in the direction of the main showroom. Dipper's eyes lazily followed his uncle's finger and landed on Pacifica who had returned. Or had she never left? And if she hadn't, then how long had she been waiting? He sighed and mentally remarked to deal with her after.

He typed in the combination code in the vending machine to Stan's surprised chagrin. And then the door exploded outward freeing from the wall with a force that knocked Dipper against the far side of the shop.

* * *

Note:

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I know this chapter wasn't as long! And a bit of a cliffhanger to boot...


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

* * *

The yellow triangle's mass of energy was exhilarated. Bill felt revived by the soulful fuel his self-appraised, most valuable minion had provided. And it wasn't just the life force that had given the ethereal such a positive rise, though it helped tremendously. Pine Tree had performed such an amazing display of self-preservation! He had worried that his minion wouldn't be able to handle it and the opportunity wasted in Bill killing the animal himself. Not only did the young man not ask for help from the demon, who could have easily fended off the creature, but he went the extra step with little to no convincing.

The demon groaned recalling the savage encounter. His vessel's innocent face painted with horror as the animal clamped sharp canines into his shoulder freeing the delicious red from its veiny prison. Dipper's responsive bashing fist crashing into the animal's skull, desperation twinkling in his dark chocolate orbs. The way he pressed his arms against the beast's throat, his face twisted into a furious scowl while he cut off its air supply, bringing it inches away from death. It had been absolutely beautiful. The rush Bill had felt as his heel had snapped its neck with a single merciless stomp, barely hesitating. Bill's ethereal form shuddered in delight at the memory.

The dream demon was soaring so high in his current string of joyous chance. It was obvious the boy had a natural affinity to magic. He had proved himself not only capable of following Bill into Stan's mind at their first encounter but also taking with him a small platoon of friends. It was part of why Bill had begun to keep an eye on the boy. There had been nothing that he could see that showed his talent. Sixer had his extra pair of fingers but Dipper seemed completely ordinary from every angle. And yet Bill had watched in intrigue as the kid had raised an army of undead simply by accident. It had made no sense but the secret was hidden under the brim of his hat the entire time. Right in front of Bill's face.

He loathed that he had missed it his first time around. That beautiful collection of pigmented speckles of brown, displayed in all its glory, nearly directly centered in the kid's forehead. A far better prize and much higher class than a few extra digits! A literal star child, who willingly gave up a direct line to his soul, to Bill. By Axolotyl, he was back, and things were finally tipped in his favor. Seemingly by forces other than his own hands for once. Pine Tree's hidden magical and lethal potential. The boy had a darkness in him that he rarely yielded to. And the dream demon was absolutely giddy about it.

When the kid had thought Fez hated him, he quickly had given up to let Bill have his way with the elder's head. There had been little to no guilt in his swift decision. He had no remorse taking control of his great-uncle's body through that mind control tie just to win the mayoral election. His brooding tendencies and irritability. That darkness and power that swirled in Dipper's soul tainting the blue of it in swirls of maroon, bleeding into purple. It twisted the energy of the demon in unspeakable ecstasy. Dipper Pines was indeed a treasure and Bill would help him to his new path, by his side, as slowly as he needed to. This is why Bill hadn't fussed over his refusal to perform more sacrifices, animal or otherwise. Until then the demon would have to find another way to fuel his power. This is what brought Cipher to the large residence of the Gleeful's.

His eye crinkled, grimacing at the memory of the little traitor, who if he had his way would have done cute dances until he didn't have legs to dance with anymore. The friction of slipping and sliding burning through more than the soles of his shoes. The thought helped relieve Bill's irritation somewhat. Not enough to stop the exasperated sigh from leaving himself at having to deal with the large-haired stalker. Bill floated up and in to locate Gideon.

After swooping through the rooms of the large home, his lone eye set upon a figure sitting at a table covered in a variety of colorful paper scraps. Gideon's hair was slicked back like an old greaser, puffed up at the front and very much still that platinum blond. Bill was surprised at his height, which he estimated was about six feet. Quite a difference from the short stack he used to be. Clad in black jeans and sticking to that pastel shade of blue he loved so much, his shirt was a short sleeved button up. It tucked into his pants and accentuated the silver belt buckle in his front that jutted out just a bit from his extra fluff of chub.

Each colorful paper, many in shades of pink and purple, had scribblings of cursive writing addressed to that of Gideon Gleeful. And it seemed that they were sent from Mabel Pines who was on surprisingly good terms with her old prison warden. Bill blinked contemplatively at the situation in front of him before sending a burst of energy forth that sent the white-haired head crashing into the table top. Though to the traitor, it seemed that the world had simply turned into shades of black and grey.

He faded away from behind him and floated his single eye through the ceiling of the room above the table top in front of the stuttering man. He had been swallowed, pulled into the Mindscape. Bill's bricks slid together in a blue hue and flashed into existence of black and white, before turning his bright signature glow of yellow.

"Well well well!" Bill's voice boomed. "Long time no see, Gideon!"

"Bill Cipher!" The man gasped, his hands shielding his face and peaking between the thick chunks of his fingers. The man lowered his palms with caution. "How've ya...been? Friend?" He stuttered his question and Bill felt pleased that he still inspired this level of caution. Even if he couldn't do much of anything at the moment.

"Friend?" Bill questioned his designation from the pompous plump of flesh. "Not yet, but maybe." He chuckled. "I have a proposition for you, Gideon." Bill swung his cane in a small whirlwind sending the rainbow of papers to flutter about.

"Oh no! I'm past those days, Bill. I've moved on!" Gideon insisted shaking his head. Bill rolled his eye in disbelief.

"Sure doesn't look like it." Bill's form faded from yellow and flashed images of Mabel, many of them she was in very compromising positions. All of them were inspired by the stalker's idea of romance and were from his various dreams. "Master of the mind, Gideon! You can't hide the truth from me!" Bill hid his exhaustion well after the burst of power he displayed. He couldn't risk much more or he'd expose just how weak he was.

He had managed to dig about in Gideon's head for a moment and fetched what he needed but it took energy out of him. Pine Tree's sacrifice did little more than fuel the full formation of his energy in the Mindscape. It was more than this platinum parasite of a man could offer him, and far more than a typical person could but it wasn't enough. Bill still wasn't in full functioning capacity and he needed to take what he could get. It would all be worth it when they struck a deal, and he wasn't leaving without one.

Gideon flushed in embarrassment from Bill's accusations. He still aspired to be more than a friend in the eyes of Shooting Star. The dream demon found it pathetic but a well used weakness to take advantage of. "Her friendship is better than her hatred." The piggish man spouted with a bit of spittle flying from his lips. He stood from his chair and began picking up the various parchment from his precious Mabel."I'll take her letters over trapping her in another bubble. At least this way I get some form of contact." Bill made a ticking noise at his response.

"We're past the bubble. The bubbles are old news." He narrowed his eye. "No, I won't need her hidden away when she's on our side." Gideon's face scrunched in confusion and disbelief.

"Our side?" Alright Cipher, time to sell it.

"That's right. Things are already in motion. Big things!" Bill floated with his cane and hands behind his back, pacing the table top. "And I decided to propose an offer to you first. Despite your betrayal", Bill glanced at him showing his irritation as he fed Gideon these lies. There was no one else he could turn to right now. He needed that extra power boost to fuel his hold on Pine Tree and get his plans moving forward. "Because your powers are of great use to me." He faced Gideon who was now tapping a finger on his chin in consideration. Flattery. Disgustingly easy.

"So, I give you my powers and you give me Mabel, bubble free?" He was watching Bill intently, still wary of the dream demon's possible tricks."When?"

"When my plan is in full force! Then she'll be all your's, Lover Boy" Bill floated next to Gideon and gave him a couple nudges in the shoulder with his elbow.

"Alive?" Gideon suspected the worst as he glanced at the triangle.

"Ah, yeah, about that-" Bill started but the platinum-haired fool interrupted him.

"Aha! I knew there would be some sort of trick!" He jumped and pointed his finger accusingly as Bill floated back around in front of Gideon and rolled his eye.

"Yeesh, relax! She'll be alive! And even conscious! There are just some conditions." Best to cover this now rather than later.

"What conditions?" Gideon crossed his arms and returned to his seat.

"She's under my protection. If I hand her over to you, you can't harm her. Physically or mentally. No harm what-so-ever!" Bill was in Gideon's face and he was leaning as far away from the floating triangle as he could. "I'm serious, anything happens to her when she's in your hands, our deal is off! Then I do to you what I do to all those who go back on a deal with me. And there will be no cute dances for anyone. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" Bill's eye flashed a demonic red as his voice boomed his last words.

"Yeah, I get it!" Gideon responded in the back of his throat, coughing into his fist as Bill turned and floated away. It was a risky move, promising Shooting Star. However, in his current state, he had no other options. Once Bill had more power, and Pine Tree was further along, Shooting Star being hurt or put at risk wouldn't be a problem. If things went his way Dipper wouldn't care about his sister at all at that point down the line.

"Good. And this stays between you and me. All of this." Bill moved his flattened palms against the air in an iconic windmill motion as he turned and faced the chubby body before him. The triangle stuck out his black hand with blue fire bursting forth from his palm. "Deal?" He squinted his eye in question, his other hand behind his back holding his cane. They always get distracted by what they're getting. Come on, sucker.

"Bill Cipher," Gideon pulled his hand back as if he were going to refuse before an evil, smug grin spread across his face. "You've yourself a deal." They shook hands and Bill grinned at the familiar swirl of power washing over him like a wave. Perfect.

Another deal was done and it felt good to be on the rise again! Now his power was building at a far more efficient rate. It was no sacrifice from Pine Tree but it was far better than being cooped up in that thick skull of his uncle's where each handshake was a tiny spark. A single droplet rippling the surface of a puddle, ringlets wavering a still reflective blue pool for a single moment. No, this was now like a crashing tide and he rode the wave confidently.

A searing sensation burned in Gideon's palm causing a painful gasp from his lips. He toppled out of his chair. Blue fire was still alight in his hand as he gripped his wrist and fruitlessly blew cold air to try and put it out. If anything it was counterproductive as the tendrils flared and grew. He waved his hand desperately through the air. The blaze faded and he stared stunned and wide-eyed as a two-inch black triangle in the middle of his right palm was revealed. It was solid except in the center where there lay a double pointed oval of pale skin split by a black line. Not as big as the one Pine Tree adorned on his thigh, but the visibility gave the connection an extra boost. It would imbue the stalker's actions with more power.

"Alright, Lover Boy. I'm going to need you to do a couple 'spells' for me." Bill spoke casually as Gideon pulled himself off the floor.

"Wait! What is this?!" Gideon growled as he stood and thrust out the marked palm with his hand gripping at the wrist.

"A signature that will help you fulfill your end of the deal," Bill stated matter-of-factly as he folded his hands over the top of his cane. "Do you want Shooting Star or not?"

"Yeah but-"

"No buts! Just keep your eyes on the end goal." Bill assured. "Now, about those spells?" Bill grinned mischievously. This pig was better than nothing until he could fully grasp the powers within his star child.

* * *

Bill made his way through the Mindscape, eye scrunched in satisfaction. Now that he had a power source lined up he could focus more on his Pine Tree. And he was definitely eager to get back because even with that little precautionary spell his sapling was more than capable of finding a loophole in its rules. When he wasn't distracted by his emotions and put his mind to a task it tended to get things done.

Bill was just reaching the roof of the Mystery Shack when he heard a loud explosion from the inside. He floated through the roof to see his toy slide down the shack wall to the floor. Fez was in front of Dipper's limp body, ready to protect against whatever caused him to bash his back into the wooden wall. Some blonde girl, which Bill recognized as Llama from his Zodiac, was leaning over Pine Tree checking how badly he was injured. Bill wasted no time and floated down to assimilate into his physical vessel on the floor.

"Wake up!" Bill ordered. Dipper groaned but his long lashes fluttered. "What happened?"

"Don't know." His voice rasped having been winded from the blow. "Need to tell Ford." Bill sighed in relief. They must not have had a chance to talk. Pine Tree's emotions from this morning must have kept him from wanting to ask for help, the demon grinned. That had worked out in more ways than one!

"Ford, what's wrong with you?!" Stan called out. All eyes turned to the doorway and within its frame was Stanford Pines. Hair mussed, clothes dusted with rubble and ripped in various places he was hunched over, one arm on the frame, the other hanging limply. And then he looked up, straight at Dipper. His eyes were completely black with a dot of purple shining as if through a tiny pinprick in the center of each. Teeth were pointed and sharp, visible through chapped lips pulled back into an angry grimace.

"Dipper," Ford's form growled. "You RUINED it!" His great-uncle screamed and started toward him, but Stan put out a hand telling him to stop. Sixer's hair swirled atop his head as a magical energy brushed the tendrils from his scalp in purple hues.

"Stanford, it's your brother, Stanley" Bill rolled his eye mentally at the sentimental notion. Pointdexter wasn't in control anymore, that much was obvious. There was no choice, he'd have to neutralize him, but there was no way to do that without harming him. His puppet had to do it.

"Pine Tree!" Bill called out mentally already working his magic on the youth's wounds. "You're going to have to jump him." His dark eyes were clearing of haze as the twenty-one-year-old began to recover.

"What?!" Dipper spoke aloud at the suggestion. Pacifica gave him a perturbed look, standing and backing away as he forced his stiff limbs to raise him from the floor. There was no serious pain but it felt like they were digging through drying cement.

"Just do it!" He insisted. "Before he charges!" Dipper noticed Ford's form was changing positions, getting ready to plant his feet more firmly. The order was still ringing in his ears. He tilted his feet to the balls, spreading his toes. Dipper lunged before Ford could start hurdling forward. Tackling the elder down the stairs Dipper felt his hands reach up and grab at his skull. Blue fire was at his fingertips confirming Bill's control. And then Ford was out like a light. A blue turtle shell shape appeared at the bottom of the stairs, catching them both before they hit the end of their descent. It vanished quickly dropping them to the concrete.

Dipper groaned from his aching head and muscles as he stood and stretched. The following stomps down the stairs weren't helping the pounding between his ears. He turned to see his Grunkle Stan and Pacifica nearing the bottom. Stan was at Ford's side immediately after seeing Dipper okay.

"He's fine, Grunkle Stan. Just knocked out." Dipper assured before Bill took over in the youth's voice. "We need to secure him until I can figure out what he was working on. Something with Pixie Powder it looks" Dipper's face was confused but he conjured up the image of his Grunkle Ford working earlier that day. Bill nodded appreciatively through Dipper's body while resting an elbow on his hand, he tapped a finger to his chin. He was about to approach the desk in question when a voice sounded behind him.

"This seems like a bad time." Pacifica backed away before she turned and started up the stairs and Dipper watched her go. A small tightness crept into his chest as she left his gaze. His face scrunched in consideration of following her but he was also relieved that he didn't have to deal with her today.

"You aren't going to go after her?" Grunkle Stan asked as he worked on tying secured knots around his brother's limbs. Dipper looked to his great-uncle, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Go on! This knucklehead can wait a few minutes while you live a little." He insisted, glancing at his nephew with a tight smile.

Before he could even decide for himself Dipper's feet started thumping up the stairs in rapid succession. Eyes wide his legs stretched in a run and brought him to the front of the gift shop just a Pacifica was about to duck into her black limo, her driver assisting her.

"Wait!" He called. _Bill, what the fuck are you doing?_ The brunette thought angrily. The demon's response was a dark chuckle, but he released the reigns and left Dipper to his own devices. Sighing he approached the hesitating young woman.

"Dipper," She turned to him and dismissed the driver to go and take his place in his seat to await orders. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything. I just wanted to apologize." She gripped her arm as she had done before, and let her gaze glance down and to the side for a moment. Her blue eyes glanced up to his brown and he let a soft smile cross his lips.

"Thank you," His voice cracked and he coughed to disguise it. "For coming to see me. And for apologizing." Cheeks flushed a rosy pink as his eyes met hers, painting his pale face with a touch of color. "I know you were trying to help." He added taking another step toward her. Azure irises burned in question and she took a step toward him. They were about half a foot apart now, her looking up at him. She punched his arm.

"If you knew I was trying to help why didn't you call me!" Pacifica glared, her glossed bottom lip protruding in a pout. Dipper rubbed his arm and grinned goofily. Bill watched as her hardened gaze faltered at the youth's smile. He floated out from his vessel and took a look for himself. His ethereal body tilted slightly as he observed his puppet's grin. An odd feeling pulsed through him. Curious.

"I got absorbed in myself. You know how that is." He accused with a smirk. The woman scoffed and rolled her eyes. "We'll get together again soon, okay? I just have some stuff I got to deal with now." He glanced away before reaching out his right hand, his other gesturing to the opening in the vehicle beside them. Pacifica responded with a small smile and allowed Dipper to help her into her transportation. He gave a small wave before shutting the door for her and stepping back. He watched as the limo pulled away, heading back to town.

"She has a thing for you, Pine Tree" Dipper jumped at the voice beside him. When he turned his head his vision took in the glowing form of a certain yellow triangle. An internal groan roared within the brunette as he turned and started toward the house. He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried not to be startled at the crinkle of the slip within. He pushed it out of his mind and instead focused on processing the fact that Bill was present in some sort of spirit form.

An obvious jump in power had occurred for the demon. His internal growl intensified and stretched in length. Bill's eye twitched into a squint of mirth at his suffering. Dipper had missed his window of opportunity. Squandered by his Grunkle Ford's botched experiment. Dipper let his mind wonder how much Bill was capable of now. Thoughts roamed over possibilities of what sort of errands the dream demon had taken care of. He ended his ponderings in a sigh. Right now he had to fix his Grunkle's mess and find a way to get him his message without Bill noticing.

* * *

Notes:

I'm really making an effort here. I already have another story on the brain so my focus strayed. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! I'll post the next installment as soon as I can! It'll be a little more difficult considering I have a job now. Ugh. Gross.


	5. Chapter 5

**Flesh and Bones**

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

* * *

Dipper hunched over the slate of metal that was a makeshift desk his Grunkle Ford had created many years ago. It was littered with scraps, beakers, and vials full of strange powders and liquids he couldn't begin to recognize. All of them had a certain air of mystery save for the familiar hue of purple that reminded the brunette of his great-uncle's current condition. It glowed with an aura of red and squished as if impatient in its confines of the container. While it looked as if it were a shimmering liquid, puffs of powdery residue fluffed into the air as he gazed at it. He heard his inner demon scoff.

"Fordsie did a number on himself." Bill snickered. Dipper rolled his eyes and glared at the vial. He was glad his Grunkle Stan had left him to it, saying he had to clean up the mess upstairs so he could have the shop open tomorrow. The twenty-one-year-old was left to his own devices, trusted to find a cure for the author. The thought brought a smile to his face, trusted. Dipper began searching for a notebook of some kind. A new journal that he knew Ford had to have been taking notes in. He found nothing on the tabletop that he could use. Just vague references to a formula for some sort of potion scribbled on spare pieces of paper. An attempt to break down the physical make up of pixies. "I warned him about messing with pixies."

"Why?" Dipper asked as his eyes started scanning the debris on the floor. "Because, kid, they may be small but they're still dangerous" The demon snorted. "They mess with your human emotions. It's their game. They lead you into a false sense of security"

"Sounds familiar" A short laugh left Dipper's throat and he could feel the twisting of the ethereal smirking in his head. "Believe me, it's different" Bill insisted.

"Pixies are tricksters in more of a murderous sense." He continued as Pine Tree leaned down to look underneath a shelf. "And taking over the world and unleashing nightmares and demons upon unsuspecting mortals isn't done in a murderous sense?" Dipper stretched his arm underneath the shelving. His hand brushed a thick leathery material that seemed to be the bind of a book. He made a small noise of victory as his fingers stretched over the material. Bending his knuckles with his fingers against the rough cover he was able to bring it close enough to grasp.

"I needed Sixer to stay away from the Pixies to prevent this. They take advantage of obsessions for entertainment." Bill paused in his explanation, waiting for the blanks in his vessels head to fill.

Dipper gripped the book in his hand looking at the six-fingered handprint on the cover. A black number seven stained the palm. Pursed lips and narrowed eyes he opened the book to the latest ink-stained page, near the middle. His Grunkle's writing was far more erratic than his previous journals. The pen marks were bleeding ink and the pressure of the pen on the surface had left indents in the paper that followed. Clearly, his uncle had been agitated in his note-taking.

The words scrawled before him were jumbled and almost random. As if the man couldn't think straight or form his thoughts coherently. However, amongst the fray of random vocabulary, the youth found his name quite frequently. His Grunkle Ford's obsession, it was Dipper. Suddenly the memory of his magically enraged relative in the gift shop made more sense. And the elder's continued pursuit of him fell into place with the other pieces of the puzzle.

Even after restraining the man, when he woke he resumed his struggles. Ropes had been upgraded to chains rather quickly since Ford's strength seemed to have increased tenfold. All of this was so he could try and get to Dipper. To do what, Dipper had no idea, but he would rather not risk finding out by setting him free. The enchanted form of Ford was always growling, blaming the twenty-one-year-old for "ruining" something. It was safe to say his motives were vengeful.

"What did I do?" Dipper questioned, his chest filling with a painful ache, but it didn't last long as the demon in him began cackling madly. The kid's pain, the situation, it was a joke to him.

"That's the best part, kid." The triangle crowed. "You didn't do a damn thing." Dipper looked away from the journal, turning his gaze to a blank wall. "He's obsessed with the idea of you following in his footsteps. All you did was ask for guidance, which stemmed from him asking for your faith in him to teach you. He's obsessing because he failed." Dipper blinked, stunned at the demon's surprising analysis.

"What?" Dipper asked. Not really expecting an answer as he contemplated this information, but Bill continued.

"You're smart, Pine Tree. He knows this. He doesn't know how to bring it out of you. And with that pixie powder in his system, all he wants to do is beat the knowledge into you just to say that he did it. I mean it's clearly evident you learn better in a solo environment. Relying on your own skills and adapting. Really he was just trying too hard. Impatient. Selfish" Dipper made a face. Him, smart? He had trouble believing that anymore. An exasperated noise sounded in his head as Bill gave up in convincing him. He would see soon enough.

Instead, he forced Dipper's vision to take in the pages of the book. Being a master of the mind he was able to pick up an erratic pattern in the mayhem of scribbles. It wasn't just the pixie powder. Wisp essence? Where had he gotten his hands on that? There hadn't been wisps in the forest of Gravity Falls for almost a century. And cyclops eye? Oh, this was rich.

"He was trying to help." His vessel spoke. Bill blinked in surprise. He had been so focused on the page he hadn't realized that the youth had started examining the notes as well. "Cyclops eye. Wisp essence. And the pixie powder. They're all focusing agents. He was trying to pull me out of my depression, to help me focus again." Pride washed over the demon and he wished he could ruffle that head of hair under his hat.

"Told you, Pine Tree. You've got yourself a brain." His tone had a hint of affection in it.

"All this rage," Dipper paused as he turned back a couple pages. "My only guess is he was combining something for emotional control with these focusing elements. It must have reacted badly-" Dipper stopped speaking when he lost control of his hands to the demon in his head.

"Pixie powder is the strongest of the focusing agents as well as the least reliable." Bill turned back to the latest pages of the journal. "Any stray thought can mislead the aura of it. Fordsie must have thought he could handle keeping a clear head and continued his experimentation after your encounter." Dipper recalled his Grunkle's calm voice during his visit to the basement, a frown turning his lips. "Any stray amount of emotion could've tainted it." The demon explained.

"So it is my fault." The twenty-one-year-old tightened his grip on the book, fingertips turning white with the pressure. "He was doing this for me and I fucked it up."

"Kid, he was not just doing this for you." Bill insisted with an unamused tone. "Look here." He flipped about ten pages back through the book. "He only started working on this about two weeks ago, tops." He remembered from Ford's habits back when they worked together on the portal, on the secrets of Gravity Falls. And sure enough, ten pages prior was a whole different theory on a whole other creature. An experiment that Dipper noticed even had its own book according to a note in the corner. See journal G-4 to continue. "He probably stumbled upon some pixies, got the idea to use their powder on you so that he could do what he wanted. And what he wanted was to create a legacy. To teach the next great and then have them, meaning you, go on to spread his name. His theories. His teachings. Pretty selfish if you ask me." The demon remarked coolly.

"That's what I signed up for," Dipper whispered as if to keep the admittance a secret. "I had wanted that for him too." There was a sadness in his voice as it echoed against the cement walls and metal.

"Yes, you did." Bill knew it was in the past now. No, his Pine Tree had seen too much of his great-uncle to want it anymore. There was a sturdy pebble of hatred lodged in the knowledge that his grunkle had been trying to change him for his own purposes. He had tried to force Dipper to change instead of adjusting himself. And if he hadn't crossed paths with a pixie he wouldn't have attempted anything at all.

"You know you could always leave him like that." Dipper's head snapped up from the pages, and this time Bill was in front of his face. His eye upon him squinted in question. "I mean he did this to himself. He should've stopped and listened to you. If he had been paying attention Fordsie could have figured out what you were trying to say." Bill stopped and examined the tips of his fingers as if looking for dirt under his nonexistent nails. "You would have been rid of me and your whole family safe again. At least for a while." His eye went back to the widened brown ones in front of him.

The demon's honest streak was starting to affect Dipper. Knowing his words were true was staggering but not as much as what they meant. If Ford had only listened to him, he could've gotten the message through. He wouldn't have needed to- He refocused his thoughts, that secret still wrinkled in his pocket. He couldn't risk it being discovered. Bill was still very much a threat despite it all. The youth couldn't believe the sinister triangle had even got him to consider leaving his Grunkle Ford in this condition. People could get hurt if he escaped! And what of the man's worried twin who was putting his faith in Dipper. His trust that the brunette would put him right. It wasn't an option to even weigh out.

"I have to put him right for Grunkle Stan," Dipper growled in irritation. Bill's eye wrinkled at the frustration in his voice but any other amusement was tucked away.

"Alright, kid." The dream demon agreed. "You'll want to start there." He pointed at an orange liquid near the pixie powder beaker.

It only took an hour or so to recreate Ford's formula. Another three and Dipper had created a solution to test on the elder. Bill had been surprisingly helpful by dropping a couple hints here and there. Otherwise, the demon was silent and let him work. He watched from the top of the scruffy hat on Dipper's head, a well-placed phrase of praise tickling Pine Tree's ears.

Now, Dipper approached the chained form of his great-uncle with caution. The man had been stuffed on the other side of the viewing glass, where the old portal used to be. Now it was broken down into scraps littered across the dirt floor. Purple haze beamed from the black of Ford's eyes as he grit his teeth. Had they not been pointed and interlocking they would have been grinding together. His wrists were shackled, pinned to the wall with the steel links clattering against each other as he pulled forward a foot and a half, all the slack he had.

Dipper removed the sealing cork and placed his thumb atop the opening as a mist began to form and swirl from the movement. The youth reached forward surprisingly steady with the nervous twisting in his stomach. Removing his thumb he watched as the man took it all in with a long inhalation through his nose. It filled his lungs and he began to cough and shutter, chains rattling against his quaking frame. Dipper stumbled back hurriedly and watched as his uncle stretched his neck, tilting his head back and turning it left and right rapidly. His biceps flexed and his legs shook from the pressure against the floor. Dipper held his breath when his Grunkle closed his eyes and went limp against the wall, sliding to the ground.

The room stilled in a pregnant silence as they waited anxiously for the results. Bill was most confident in their mixture. Dipper had been quite the alchemist after reading Fordsie's notes. And only helped in where the elder had neglected to take down basic information. Fundamental basic information. No wonder the kid had trouble following his teachings.

Ford's eyes flickered in the dim blue light of the space, brown in color but hazy as if in a fog. The pressure on his wrists seemed to pull the elder's attention and he looked from either arm and then to Dipper. His mouth moved as if trying to form a question but nothing came out.

"Great-uncle Ford?" Dipper asked tentatively. He was about to move forward but a small hand on his shoulder stopped him. He didn't have to look to see, it was Bill. "Wait a moment, Pine Tree." His voice was a soft whisper of a breeze against his ear sending a chill down his spine. He shook it off and Bill removed his hand, Dipper could sense his smirk.

"Dip-per" Ford spoke slowly. "How?" He moved to try to stand, pushing his hand against the wall above his head. His body trembled and he fell to his knee.

"Wait. I'll get Grunkle Stan." Dipper said. He turned and left for the stairs, pausing momentarily as he looked back at Bill who was surprisingly not moving to follow. He quickly made his way to the bottom of the steps. "Grunkle Stan! I need your help!" He called as his fingers brushed the paper in his pocket. Now was his chance since Bill was still distracted. He pulled the scrap from his pocket, as he turned to step back towards the chained man he slipped the note on the edge of the metal desk. To: Ford showing on the top. He slid his hand along the tabletop as he passed letting his fingers trail to drop off the end.

Stan was quick of his descent into the basement after Dipper's call. He pushed past the boy who was walking toward his brother with slow methodical steps. Only sparing a second of a glance he rushed forward and relieved the man's wrists from the pressure of the shackles. Ford's arms fell and his body slumped onto his brother, groaning like a bowing board. Dipper stood to the side of the doorway as Grunkle Stan led the limp body up the steps.

"How you doing, kid?" Bill asked as they watched them leave. Dipper only shrugged. He felt oddly numb about the whole thing. He knew he should have felt some sort of concern for his great-uncle but nothing stirred in him. Air left his lungs in resignation as he followed the twins up the stairs. Stan had jumped the gun on releasing Ford. They weren't sure the antidote would last, or if it had worked completely.

Stan had brought Ford to his bedroom and lain the man in his bed. Books were scattered across the floor with scraps of pages and graph paper shuffled underfoot. A loose blanket placed over the top of him. Stan turned to Dipper with a grateful smile.

"I knew you could do it, Dipper." His voice was low and quiet to not disturb the resting man. "Thank you."

All Dipper could do was offer a tight curl of the side of his lips and a thumbs up. He offered to help pick up the gift shop so his Grunkle could be at Ford's bedside. There was no argument about it as the brunette left the room. Stan had already handled most of the damage. Probably trying to keep his hands busy with worry. And now Dipper officially didn't know what to do with himself. And he really didn't trust himself to think too much.

Daylight had begun to fade from the sky as it roamed below the horizon. Exhaustion was creeping up on him now and he remembered he had been up before the sun. He stifled a yawn in his hand. Going to bed early sounded like a plan and he stepped down to head to the main house. Bill pulled him out of his thoughts as he felt his manipulated limbs pulling him out into the forest.

"What are you doing?" Dipper probably should have been feeling panicky but his tired brain could only muster minor annoyance. "Field trip." He sighed at Bill's two-word reply, too tired to argue.

The demon carried the youth's body past the tree line in silence. Darkness and shadows had enveloped his vision but his body never tripped or stumbled. He was almost asleep on his feet when Bill halted him suddenly. Dipper blinked his eyes against the black when a single spark of light drew his gaze to a very large pine in a clearing. He tilted his head upwards and he could see many speckles of purple lighting up the dark green needles of the large timber. Every branch of the hundred foot tree was speckled with dim lights like it was Christmas.

"Pixies?" Dipper asked in awe as he watched them flitter about. A hum from within his mind confirmed his thoughts.

"I thought you could use a reward for your efforts today." Dipper drew in a short breath as a single pixie came forward and fluttered its wings in his face. Its eyes were blackened completely as Ford's had been, it's skin shinning that familiar color of royalty. The little body had two arms and legs, it was completely naked and smooth. It reached forward but a hand didn't sit at the end of the appendage like a human. Instead, it split off into two taloned digits. It pulled back as if it were about to swipe at his face before flinching and returning to the group surrounding the large trunk. Unknown to Dipper the startled creature had seen his eyes flash that familiar shade of yellow.

"It's beautiful." Dipper was lost in watching the dancing specks against the night air. They almost blended with the stars shining in the sky. A large oh crept to his lips as a yawn escaped him. "Yes, very." If Dipper didn't know any better he might have thought there was a hint of a smile in Bill's voice.

"What are they doing?" Dipper asked. An appreciative nod moved his head as Bill responded, "Preparing. Pixie holiday." Bill flashed images from the inside of the tree's trunk. Dipper could see a squishy red substance spread on the inside of carved tunnels as the creatures crawled through on all fours. Dipper flinched as he caught sight of a piece of what looked to be brain matter being rolled through. "Yes, it is exactly what you're thinking," Bill assured.

"So should I expect to be putting a missing person flier in the window tomorrow?" Dipper sighed as he slumped against a tree.

"It's cute how you think they left anyone to report someone missing." Bill grinned in his mind and Dipper was more than grateful as his body started to move back toward the Shack.

"So there are pieces of multiple people in there?"

"Well, of course, Sapling." The demon sounded as if he were teaching a child. "They need as much flesh and blood as they can get." Dipper couldn't help his curiosity and Bill knew this, but he still waited for him to ask.

"What do they need it for?" He felt like he was going to regret inquiring, but he couldn't refuse the question. He so desired the answer.

"Well, they need something to mold their offspring with." Okay, that woke him up.

"They mold themselves out of human flesh?" The chill that ran up his spine shook his possessed body as Bill again hummed in confirmation. "To be fair it isn't just human flesh, but it is what works the best. Blood, flesh, and bone are strong magical agents. This is why sacrifices are so coveted." If he could, Dipper would have been taking down notes but his legs were aching, and his mind was foggy. All he wanted to do was climb the stairs to the attic and crawl under his sheets. Though as he crossed the front threshold he realized it wouldn't be possible just yet.

Stan was waiting for him in the living room and passed on the message that Ford wanted to talk to him. So instead Dipper found himself tracing a path to the elder's bedroom and knocking softly on the closed door. Prompted by a soft "come in" the brunette turned the knob and approached the man sitting in bed.

"You wanted to see me?" His voice sounded colder than he had intended, but oddly enough it didn't bother him when his great-uncle flinched while he put his book down.

"Why are you going out into the woods at night?" The man questioned. Dipper shoved his hands into his pockets and glared. "I needed to clear my head a bit." He responded. "Taking hikes helps me cool off."

"Cool off?" Ford asked. "I would think you would be proud of what you accomplished!"

"And what's that exactly? Cleaning up the mess of an irresponsible hack who was looking to alter his great-nephew's moods so he's not a burden to him anymore?" As Dipper spat out the words there was a flash of purple who across Ford's eye. The elder put his head in his hands for a moment and looked at the ceiling. He took a deep breath before he folded his fingers in his lap and turned back to Dipper.

"I wasn't trying to change you. I was trying to help! You've been so depressed lately! I thought if I could pull you out of it maybe things between us would be different. You've been so..." He trailed off but Bill seemed to finish his sentence for him. Argumentative. Stubborn. Unbearable to be around. Dipper's temper flared.

"Talking to me is so hard for you, huh?" Dipper crossed his arms as the accusation left his lips. "It's fine. I don't want your help anymore, Ford. I'm starting my own path now." Dipper let his arms fall as he turned, he paused in the doorway as he reached back for the knob. One last angry glare toward his great-uncle and he pulled the door closed. He glanced at Stan who had been listening just outside the room but he paid him no mind as he made his way to finally rest for the night.

* * *

Notes:

Took me a while! I was intimidated by the experiments and sciencey bits and the story kind of took on a mind of its own. Thanks again for reading!


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